


Little Death

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Series: Smosh Kink!Verse [1]
Category: Smosh, Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Blowjobs, Dom/sub, Implied Petplay, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, bottom!Ian, collaring, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were few places that made Ian as happy as when he was thrown over Anthony's knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Death

**Author's Note:**

> It seems all I am capable of writing is smutty kink related things. I should apologise but I don't care enough UvU
> 
> Spanking!fic was mentioned on Tumblr by a couple of people and I decided to write it, gomenasai in advance.

There were very few places in the world that made Ian as happy as the spot he so often comfortably occupied across Anthony's lap. Nothing else replaced that feeling of flying, his gut sinking every time Anthony brought his hand down against Ian's ass - it should have been a horrible feeling, but endorphins and adrenaline were wonderful things, Ian had decided that long ago.

Sometimes he got bent over the kitchen counter, like the time two weeks ago when he'd broken Anthony's favourite glass and spoke with an acidic tone towards the slightly taller man. Sometimes Ian was lay across the bed on his stomach, other times across the arm of the couch and even across Anthony's lap in the back seat of his car a couple of times when he'd been so bad that Anthony wasn't about to wait to get home to punish him. They'd tried other positions - Ian bent over with his hands gripping his ankles, Anthony's arm tucked around his waist and his knees either side of his Master's hips, Ian standing up straight with his feverish body pressed tight against cool drywall - and yet nothing compared to lying across Anthony's thighs and taking whatever was thrown at him.

This time in particular, Ian had brought it upon himself, speaking out of turn during a scene and pulling at Anthony's grip around his waist. He knew that it would be bad when Anthony didn't immediately bend him over and give him a few open palmed smacks, but instead bided his time and waited a few days. It wasn't until Ian got back from a short meeting with some of their crew that he realised what was happening. As soon as he was through the door, Anthony's forearm was pressed against his neck, slamming Ian into the wall where his legs bumped hard against the hallway table.

"Did you think that you'd gotten away with it?" Anthony sneered, and God, Ian loved that vicious tone and hungry look more than most other things in the world. His boyfriend's arm pressed harder against his neck, making him let out a small gasp. "You've been bad, and bad boys get punished, don't they, babe?" Ian's mouth hung open when Anthony's thigh pressed between his legs and the pressure against his throat increased enough to make Ian's face flush crimson. Nodding, Ian felt that pressure suddenly release, his fingertips tingling as oxygen coursed through his veins again.

There was no use trying to get out of it, (not that Ian wanted to at all,) because though Ian could easily take Anthony down with a well placed punch to the jaw and easily matched him in strength, he didn't dare pull that kind of stunt. He'd always come off worse if he backchatted, and this was only enforcing that knowledge. A warm hand hooked around his wrist, holding tight as Anthony pulled Ian along behind him, all but dragging him up the stairs, slightly longer strides working to his advantage as he easily took the stairs two at a time, leaving Ian to stumble and trip his way up.

"Shirt off," Anthony demanded before they were even in the bedroom properly, placing his hand in the center of Ian's chest and shoving hard. He was already shirtless and only in his boxers, and it was clear from the lube set out on the nightstand that Anthony had taken enough time and care to actually plan this happening. Ian hurriedly tugged his shirt over his head, acutely aware of Anthony watching him with a smirk. His hair dishevelled, Ian dropped his shirt on the floor and heard Anthony click his tongue with a loud 'tsck' sound. "Good boys don't leave their clothes on the floor, do they, pet? Pick it up and fold it."

Anthony's tone was strong and sure and Ian immediately did as he was told, murmuring a small and obedient, "No, no sir, they don't." Arms circled his bare waist and Ian felt his blush creeping down his neck, up to his ears and down onto his lightly freckled chest. Anthony pressed against his back, skilful hands unfastening Ian's belt and popping the button on his jeans, shoving at them.

"Good, good boy. Get the rest of your things off, fold them, then come over to me." Anthony had been hesitant at the beginning of their relationship, not certain of himself at all and instead feeling rather bad the first time that Ian asked Anthony to slap him and pull his hair sharply while they fucked. Things changed though, and with encouragement, a lot of discussion and Ian repeatedly enforcing that he wanted Anthony to make him sleep on the floor if he was bad and to treat him differently in the bedroom (and occasionally outside of it too,) Anthony had got used to the idea. He'd always been turned on by the idea of Ian on his knees, but over time that fixation had gone from imagining just a blowjob when he was a teenager to now envisioning Ian in his crimson leather collar and nothing else, crawling on hands and knees for days at a time, and sitting on the floor in front of the sofa while Anthony pet his hair and they watched movies together like that. With that thought, Anthony sat on the edge of the bed and reached behind him for the aforementioned collar, all while watching Ian bite his lip as he carefully folded his jeans and set his shoes and socks aside.

Ian stood upright but kept his head bowed, hands relaxed at his side and his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. He took a step towards Anthony then reconsidered, dropping to his hands and knees reflexively. His breathing was already growing heavier by the time he'd crawled across the wooden floor to kneel in front of his boyfriend, and only then did he look up through his eyelashes and hair with glassy eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that shit, thinking you're gonna get away with this." Anthony rolled his eyes and reached down with the collar in his one hand, fixing it firmly around Ian's neck. He slid two fingers down the side of it, making sure it wasn't too tight before giving the leather a sharp, hard pull upwards, dragging Ian up until he was kneeling up straight, his head tilted back. Anthony leaned in and breathed hot across Ian's ear, drawing a small gasp from the blue eyed man. "You don't get to enjoy this yet," he said pointedly. "Good boys get to have fun, bad boys don't. Giving me sass is never a good idea, you should know that by now."

Ian already felt himself getting hard while Anthony's breath brushed across his skin and made every hair on his body stand up on end. This was dirty and degrading, being dragged up onto his knees by a piece of leather fastened around his neck, called names and commanded as to how to behave and what to do. Ian knew that, and knowing that was part of the reason his length was already twitching and filling out by the time Anthony pulled him down and gave him a relatively gentle smack to the back of his leg. He struggled on purpose, liking that battle for control over his body and knowing that Anthony not-so-secretly enjoyed pinning Ian down and watching him try to escape from his punishment.

Anthony's fingers tangled in Ian's hair once he'd let go of the collar, yanking sharply and smirking as he looked down over Ian's body. "You like this, don't you? You like knowing that ten minutes from now, your ass is going to be red raw, cock leaking against my leg, huh?" Anthony's voice was low - barely above a rumble in his chest - and Ian responded with a loud groan. "Open your eyes when I'm talking to you, pet," Anthony commanded, using his grip on Ian's hair to tug his head backwards again. "You know that good boys don't misbehave. Good boys do what they're told."

Eyes flickering open, Ian was face to face with Anthony, his vision blurring in and out of focus as the other man's words sank deep into his bones and laid that thrumming foundation that was so familiar and so enticing. "Y- Yes, sir," Ian replied, unable to nod with the other man's strong fingers pulling his head backwards. Anthony leaned down and bit harshly at the base of Ian's neck, his free hand wandering across the expanse of bare skin down Ian's back. He moulded his hand to the curve of Ian's ass and grabbed the soft swell there, squeezing before drawing his hand back a short way and bringing it down over Ian's skin. The contact sent a loud 'smack' sound into the room and made the nerve endings across Ian's skin flare up and burn with a pain he could only describe as delicious. Ian moaned loudly, trailing off into a hiss when Anthony bit down hard on his collarbone.

"Lie across my lap, baby," Anthony whispered, his voice dripping with sickly sweet treacle. "I'm gonna remind you how bad boys get treated when they don't do what they're told."

It was a little awkward to move, but once Anthony's grip on his hair had been released Ian lay across the others' lap as he had done so many times before, his stomach and chest pressed against the cooler skin on Anthony's thighs. "I want you to count each lash for me, okay?" Ian didn't reply, too fixated on the head of his length pressing up against the comforter. A sharp, hard smack to his ass brought him back momentarily, Anthony's voice turning dangerous and low again. "I said, 'okay'.", Anthony mumbled, rubbing the pads of his fingers in small, soothing circles across the already burning hot skin.

Ian nodded, his head bowing between his shoulders and a soft gasp coming from his mouth as another handprint blossomed on his skin. "One... One." Ian's voice shook as he counted, his fingers knotting in the fabric of the comforter. Smirking, Anthony's free hand hooked around Ian waist to keep him held in place as he squirmed away from the second blow. It fell a little lower this time, closer to the sensitive skin where his ass met the back of his thigh. "Oh, _fuck_!" Ian groaned, swallowing before lowering his voice and forming the word 'two' with his mouth.

"You know why you're getting a spanking, don't you, baby?" Anthony mumbled, his fingers once again digging into Ian's flesh to distract from the sharp stinging there.

"I- Ye... Yeah," Ian managed to get out, feeling himself slipping into that cotton wool fog at Anthony's words. It was no secret how much he got off on dirty talk. Ian loved it when Anthony whispered in his ear how good he was being, or how bad he'd been. The very sound of Anthony's gentle yet ragged breathing and the dirty words tumbling from his mouth would have been enough to make Ian slide into that state.

"You've been bad, haven't you? Talking back to me, parading around the house naked like you don't know how much that turns me on. Anyone would think you were begging for me to fuck you into the mattress, you cockslut." Anthony's words drew a loud yelp from Ian's mouth. Fingers caressed his red hot skin again and then one, two, three fast smacks jerked Ian forwards a small way, his legs kicking as if he were trying to get away. "Look at you. You're hard already, hard from me just telling you how bad you've been and how you need a good spanking to be put back into your place."

Ian's breath caught in his throat and he thrust against Anthony's thigh. Usually, the more dominant man wouldn't have stood for that, but his own skin was bristling with heat. "You aren't counting, baby... I don't want to have to give you more lashings or get the paddle out." Anthony reigned down three smacks to the other side of Ian's ass, fingers slightly soothing the burn straight after.

Choking out the numbers and keeping track wasn't easy. Ian was sure he'd messed up somewhere, but Anthony hadn't seemed to notice. It was hard to concentrate when every nerve in your body was sparking and tingling with the pain, brain fuzzing up at the humiliating punishment being given to you. He managed it though, somehow, and Anthony gave a few lighter taps to the back of Ian's legs.

"Why don't you tell me what you did wrong, pet." Anthony shifted his legs slightly so he could free up the arm holding onto Ian's body, instead electing to scratch over Ian's scalp and grip his hair hard again, just how his little pet liked it. "Tell me why you're getting a spanking."

Ian groaned when Anthony gave him another two hard slaps, his hips jerking against his control. "I... I'm being spanked. I'm being, I-" Ian was cut off by another hard smack across his backside. "I was bad... I spoke out of turn, I was rude and I didn't do as I was told..." His words came out as more of a long string of moans than anything else. "And, and now you're teaching me how to be good."

Anthony nodded, a smirk passing across his lips. "Good boy," he said quietly, voice overpowered by the sound of harsh skin on skin contact. Chuckling as Ian tried to count through the mixture of pain and pleasure, Anthony shook his head. "You don't need to count for me anymore, pet. You're being so, so good."

His hand stroked over the bright red skin that covered Ian's ass and the tops of his legs, letting his finger slide up and tap at Ian's entrance. "You keep being a good boy and I'll make you feel good," Anthony promised, getting a deep groan in reply while Ian was grinding his hips down, frotting against Anthony's thigh almost desperately. "Five more lashes," he murmured, dealing them out quickly but increasing the power he put behind them.

Satisfying handprints rose from the red blush and disappeared again, Anthony's hand groping between Ian's legs, spreading them open slightly. "Was... Was I good?" Ian asked, panting heavier than he probably needed to but the added rush from too much oxygen was too tempting to pass up. Ian heard a slick slurp and not a moment later, Anthony's finger was pressing inside him, coated with just enough saliva to make the slight stretch bearable. He arched his back, pressing forwards against Anthony's thigh again.

"You were very good, baby." Anthony pressed his finger deeper into Ian, but it was near impossible at the angle he was working at so he gave up on it and slowly pulled his hand away. His other hand loosened its grip on Ian's hair, petting affectionately at the caramel strands instead. "Did you learn your lesson? What did you learn, pet?"

Swallowing, Ian nodded and kept rolling his hips up against Anthony's leg. "I did, I did," he rambled, "I learned that... That you know best, and that... That when you punish me it makes me better, stops me from being bad." Fingers hooked into his collar again and he was awkwardly lifted up, kneeling next to where Anthony sat. He felt as though his boyfriend's hands were touching him absolutely everywhere as they kissed, more teeth and tongue than lips, rough and needy. "I wanna, make you feel good," Ian moaned out into the kiss, pawing at the others' chest hungrily.

"Oh yeah? You wanna show me how much a good boy you can be? Remind me of how good you look with a dick down your throat?" Anthony lifted a hand to Ian's mouth and passed his thumb over his boyfriend's bottom lip, pressing it into his mouth. "I love fucking your mouth, seeing those tears roll down your face... You like it too, don't you babe? Like being used like the toy you are." Ian nodded, moaning around the intrusion in his mouth.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," he mumbled around Anthony's thumb, pressing his tongue flat against the digit and scraping his teeth along it. Anthony couldn't help but shudder at that and he withdrew his hand slowly, admiring the string of saliva that stretched between his hand and Ian's mouth.

"Lie down for me then, pet," Anthony said, it being more of a gentle command than a suggestion. He stood up, getting his boxers off and lazily running a hand from the base to the tip of his length while he watched Ian shift, trying to make the stinging in his skin ease a little. "You look so good like this..." Climbing back onto the bed, he swung his leg over Ian's chest and reached down for his hair again, cock bobbing slightly in Ian's face.

Ian was still panting slightly, his own arousal not forgotten, though he knew quite well that touching himself was out of the question unless his Master told him otherwise. He lifted his head, (glad for the support Anthony was giving to his neck,) and stuck his tongue out. Anthony's other hand gripped himself and playfully smacked his length against Ian's tongue, the wet noises strangely satisfying. It took all of a minute for Ian to start swirling his tongue around the tip of Anthony's cock teasingly as his hands reached up to grip at his boyfriend's thighs and hips, giving him better leverage.

Sucking Anthony into his mouth, Ian hollowed his cheeks and strained his neck slightly so he could bob his head. He knew well enough what Anthony liked, earning moans and lavish praise every time he leaned back to concentrate his efforts on the end of Anthony's cock. "Oh, fuck, baby," Anthony groaned, tightening his grip on Ian's hair.

His head was pressed back into the pillows by Anthony, who supported himself on the headboard to make it easier for him to slide his cock in and out of Ian's mouth. Ian knew that it shouldn't have been such a turn on, literally being forced to take Anthony in deeper than was remotely comfortable, but as his more dominant boyfriend pressed forwards and he choked a little, Ian moaned loudly. Or, well, as loudly as someone with a mouthful of dick could.

Anthony started slow, taking care to not outright choke Ian, but he built up a faster rhythm once he was sure Ian was alright. It felt so incredibly _dirty_ , what with spit streaking down Ian's chin and onto his neck, tears leaving glistening tracks as they fell down his hollowed cheeks. It was messy and undignified, but even as he struggled to breathe, letting out dirty choking sounds every time Anthony thrust forwards, Ian felt the clenching in his stomach and screwed his eyes shut.

"Nuh-uh, no." Anthony pulled back sharply, a long trail of spit hanging between Ian's mouth and the tip of his length. "I want you looking at me, pet." Ian opened his eyes slowly, more tears making tracks down his face, some running into the corners of his swollen lips. "You look at me and I'll let you touch yourself," Anthony panted, pushing Ian's hair back to get a better view of the watery blue eyes staring up at him.

He waited for Ian to nod and lean forwards again, this time not giving Ian any time to adjust. Anthony's fingers threaded into the soft hair at the back of Ian's head and held him in place as he thrust forwards hard, moaning as Ian blinked a few tears from his eyes and looked up through his eyelashes. "Fuck, babe... You're so good at this, your mouth feels so fucking good..." His voice trailed off as he pressed forwards and held Ian down for what seemed like an eternity, watching the man underneath him squirm to get hold of his own length. "You gonna get off on this, yeah?" Anthony asked as he pulled Ian's head back.

Ian moaned, the noise coming out louder than he planned it to as he slid his hand over his own cock, fingers scuttling quickly over the underside. He vaguely nodded, swallowing hard when Anthony's length bumped the back of his throat and the man above him let out a low groan at the feeling. Anthony's fingers ran through Ian's hair as the other man worked at sucking his cock, watching as Ian bobbed his head enthusiastically despite the saliva trailing down his neck. A strong hand pulled Ian's head back sharply, Anthony's fingers knotted tight in the caramel strands.

"I want you to swallow for me, pet," Anthony's voice was hoarse as his hand released Ian's head, using it to guide the end of himself into Ian's mouth instead. Ian let his mouth hang open, his tongue lapping at the bead of pre-come, smearing it across the tip of Anthony's dick with a small, playful smirk.

With his hand moving over himself quickly and sloppily, Ian arched his back just a little, trying to concentrate on swishing his tongue around Anthony instead of the coiling pleasure seeping through his veins. A twitch of his hips and a mumbled 'fuck' later, Anthony moaned and came into Ian's mouth, sliding his hand over himself slowly and watching through heavy lidded eyes as Ian whimpered, almost panting.

Ian made a show of swallowing and licking his lips, enjoying the feel of Anthony's hand in his hair again. "You're a good little pet," Anthony sighed out as he shuffled backwards down Ian's body, lifting himself up a little so he could maneuver to straddle Ian's thighs. "Do you want me to make you feel good?" He asked, reaching down to push Ian's hand away from himself.

"Fffuck." Ian arched his back and nodded a few times. "Y-yes please. Please," he begged, feeling strung out and on edge, acutely aware of the mess of saliva, tears and come drying on his face. Anthony's fingers gripped him tight and, Christ, Anthony knew exactly what he was doing, knew which precise buttons to press to get Ian squirming and moaning, biting his bottom lip hard.

Three more firm strokes and Ian let out a choked moan, arching his back and hips up off the bed as he came over Anthony's hand and his own stomach, eyes shooting open as he came down from that dizzying high. Anthony wiped his hand off on the sheets and reached up again, gently stroking Ian's hair and whispering soft affirmations against the leather around Ian's neck.

Swallowing through his dry mouth, Ian reached up and wiped at his face, turning a little to nuzzle his nose against the side of Anthony's head. "Did you learn your lesson, babe?" Anthony asked, nipping softly at Ian's earlobe. He was more than satisfied with the nod and content murmur Ian gave him, happy to ignore the sweat sticking to his skin and the dirty sheets for half an hour, as long as it meant curling up with Ian for a while.


End file.
